Detroit: Become One-Shots
by MissxFaith
Summary: (Discontinued) Detroit: Become Human One-shots. These will mainly focus on Connor and Hank. Some will be lighthearted and endearing, others will be dark and filled with angst. I hope you like all of them! :) (Possible spoilers for the game. You have been warned.)
1. forgiveness

**_forgiveness_**

Trapped. He's trapped within his own mind. He's screaming, but no one can hear him. He can't break free. He can't let go. He can't forgive himself for what happened all those years ago.

"I'm sorry," he whispers to the wind. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

 _I could've done more._

 _I could've stopped it from happening._

 _I could've, I should've taken his place._

 _I should've been the one to die._

Connor's thoughts follow him, they suffocate him. They smother him and drown him and prevent him from escaping his own mind.

He can't see it. He chooses not to. It'll be easier if he just pretends.

 _I wish I wasn't alive_ , he thinks.

 _If I wasn't alive, perhaps I wouldn't feel this torment_.

He relives the memory from years ago. He relives it one final time.

The frantic shouts, the loud gunshots going off in the distance. It was a routine investigation. There was no reason for anything to go wrong.

If he hadn't chased that man... If he hadn't ignored his partner's warnings... If he'd turned back in time...

But he hadn't.

He chased the criminal to the river and watched the man jump in. The current was too strong anyways, the human wouldn't survive.

But Connor failed to notice the other assailant. He failed to see the other man pull out a gun.

He failed to save his friend.

The android heard two gunshots, followed by a desperate cry for help. He was racing back to the scene, but it was already too late.

"No..." he'd lamented, crumpling to the ground next to the Lieutenant.

"It's... it's gonna be all right," Hank had tried to assure him. "It's... gonna be okay."

Because of course Hank would try to comfort Connor, even when he was the one dying.

"I'm sorry," Connor had sobbed, because he didn't know what else to say. "I don't... I don't know what to do."

He'd felt helpless, watching the human die. He tried to put pressure on the wounds to stop the bleeding, but there was just too much of it.

"It's okay," Hank had rasped out, his breathing becoming slower, more ragged. "It's okay..."

"No, it's not!" Connor had shouted, cradling the dying police officer in his arms. "You can't... you can't just die like this!"

Hank had managed a weak laugh. "Everybody dies, Connor. Some just go sooner than others."

The android was only just beginning to understand his emotions, and now they were going crazy. He was helpless, he was terrified of losing the one human that actually cared about him. He was just so scared.

"You can't leave me," Connor had choked out. "I... I need you."

Hank had then reached out a frail arm, gripping the android's hand as tightly as he could manage. "You're a good kid, Connor. If anyone can change the future... it's you."

The android was frantic now, gripping the detective's hand tightly. "I'll... I'll call an ambulance. I'll—"

"It's over, Son," Hank had then said, his eyes closing briefly before opening again. "You and I both know... that they won't be able to... get here in time."

By this time, Connor's hands were soaked with Hank's blood. His usually pristine Cyberlife uniform (that he still wore, despite Hank's frequent protests) was also covered in the Lieutenant's blood.

"But..." Connor had blinked back tears that he didn't know he was capable of producing. "I... I don't want to lose you, Lieutenant."

Hank's eyes softened at the android's words, and he smiled a little. "I'm really... gonna miss you, Connor. I've never met anyone... quite like you."

The android watched helplessly as the police officer began to cough violently. He didn't have much time left.

"How do you expect me to go on?" Connor had then asked in a broken voice. "How can I go on without you?"

Hank was very close to death, then, but he was still coherent enough to process the android's words and what they were implying. "You have to..." he whispered. "You have to go on... even when it seems like there's nothing left for you."

"This is all my fault, though," the android went on, synthetic tears streaming down his face. "If I could've just gotten here sooner..."

"Stop... that..." Hank had admonished. "Don't you fucking dare blame yourself for this."

"How can I not?" Connor had replied, opening sobbing. "How can I just stand here and let you die?!"

"Connor..." Hank had then whispered, because he knew it was almost over. "Connor, please..." because he didn't want the android to blame himself.

"You can't leave me," the android sobbed. "Please don't leave me."

But Death waits for no one. And it was done giving the detective extra time.

"You... have to..." Hank had rasped out, closing his eyes. "You have to... let me go, Connor."

"Hank..." the android had whispered desperately. "Please... please don't go..."

But Death had already come for the Lieutenant. It was over, just like that.

And Connor couldn't stop replaying the scene in his mind. He couldn't stop blaming himself, despite Hank's last request. He couldn't bring himself to move on. He couldn't forgive himself for his mistake.

"I'm so, so sorry." Connor's footsteps are quiet on the pavement. "I'm so sorry that I could never let you go, Lieutenant." Connor's mind begins to empty, having decided it's final destination at last. "I'm sorry that I could never forgive myself."

He climbs over the metal railing separating the old train bridge from the steep drop into the icy water below.

"Will you ever be able to forgive me?" He asks the cold night air. "I hope so." He stands on the ledge, his thoughts blissfully empty. "I really, really hope you can forgive me for this, Lieutenant."

He briefly wonders what will happen, after he jumps. He will hit the water with enough force to snap his neck, effectively ending his life. He will feel a split second of pain, perhaps, and then nothing. He will be gone, forever.

He wonders if there is an afterlife for androids, and then he wonders if it will be different from the human one.

He wonders if he will see Hank there.

He doesn't think so.

Why does he have to be alive? Why does he have to suffer so cruelly for just... existing?

He did not ask for this. He did not want to gain sentience. He did not want to become a deviant at all. If he had stayed a machine, none of this would've happened.

Perhaps Hank would even still be alive.

"I tried, Lieutenant," Connor says to the icy water below him. "I truly did." He takes in a deep breath that he doesn't need. "I tried to move on. I tried to let you go." He looks down at the harsh waves that lap up against the bridge's foundations. "I tried to forgive myself." He feels the winter wind rustle his hair, he feels the cold seep into his synthetic skin. "I tried... but I couldn't do any of those things."

Connor jumps. He knows he won't survive the fall. He's already calculated it. His LED flashes a warning in red, but he cannot save himself now, even if he wanted to.

 _I hope you can forgive me_ , he thinks as he falls.

 _I hope I can finally forgive myself._

He hits the water harshly, and his neck breaks on contact with the icy waves. His LED continues to flicker for a few more seconds, but it quickly extinguishes.

The android known as Connor is now gone, forever.

One can only hope that he found that forgiveness, in those last few moments. One can only hope that the android was now resting in paradise with his human companion.

But Connor would only ever know for sure, and there was no way of asking him now.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** So, this is my first one-shot for this, and it's pretty sad (as you can probably tell).

Not all of them will be this depressing (I promise) I was just in the mood to write something a bit more... angsty.

My other DBH fanfic (Detroit: Staying Human) is probably going to be updated more frequently than this, so if you're in the mood for a full-length story, be sure to check that out as well!

I will try to update this at least once a week (possibly more often).

Be sure to let me know if you liked it! And feel free to leave me suggestions for future one-shots!

Thanks for reading! :D

~ Miss Faith


	2. blue (part one)

_(Warning: implications of self-harm / descriptions of blood)_

 ** _blue (part one)_**

Connor had always found them rather strange, the differences between humans and androids. The two species seemed so similar from the outside, and yet their internal differences were so great in comparison.

Human blood ran in the color of rubies, of cherries, of the richest kinds of wine. It painted everything in hues of elegant crimson and scarlet. It was beautiful and gruesome and pumped through purple veins. It kept a person's heart beating, and showed life at it's most primal level. Flushed cheeks and rushing adrenaline. It was the thick pulse of young life. It was summer love in twisted sheets. It was quickened heartbeats and rosy cheeks. It was alive.

Connor thought human blood was fascinating. He thought it would be interesting to feel warmth in his face. He thought it would be nice to feel a steady heartbeat in his chest. He thought of what it would be like to have rich red running in his veins instead of blue thirium.

Blue. The color of oceans, of sky, of a midnight canvas. It splattered like paint. Like paint-balls at the arcade. It reminded Connor of navy colored ink. Of river streams and lakes. It reminded him of wildflowers and sapphire gemstones. It was nothing in comparison to the the rich crimson of human blood.

It was then, he supposed, that he wondered what his veins were like. What it'd look like if his thirium colored the floor a rich navy-blue color.

Of course he'd been to many crime scenes and analyzed enough dead androids to know what thirium looked like, but it just wasn't the same.

Just to see, he'd told himself one Saturday afternoon. I just want to see.

Hank was out for the day. He wouldn't be back until after dusk. Perhaps even later, if he decided to go to the bar.

Connor found a knife in the kitchen, large and menacing-looking. He thumbed the edge of it, testing its sharpness. Just one cut, he thought to himself. Just to see.

He took in a breath he didn't need, bracing himself. He brought the knife up to the crook of his bare elbow, and hovered over the synthetic skin. He knew that if he made the cut deep enough, he'd expose metal and wires. He wasn't sure if that thought bothered him or not.

Just one cut.

He pressed the tip of the blade against his skin, still fascinated at how he didn't feel any pain—another sign that he would never truly be human.

Blue thirium leaked from the small cut he had started, it dripped down his arm in a thin line. It looked like spilled ink.

Connor was entranced by the sight of his own thirium, transfixed as it continued to drip down his arm and into his hand. He slid the kitchen knife downwards, drawing more blue blood.

His fascination prevented him from registering the internal warnings his system was trying to give him. His LED began to flicker a distressed red color, and he was distantly aware that he should stop.

Just one more cut, he thought, because he was now too engrossed in the sickening scene to stop.

He took the now-painted knife and placed it in his other hand. Perhaps it was the android's need for perfection that led him to slice his other arm. Everything had to be precise, after all.

It's not that much thirium, he tried to reason with himself. I just wanted to see what it looked like.

But his system was starting to suffer from it, nonetheless. He was beginning to shut down. He never meant for this to happen.

I just wanted to see, he thought to himself. I just wanted to know why I'm so different from humans. I wanted to know why my blood isn't the same color.

Connor felt faint, which shouldn't have been possible for android. He felt his vision dim. He was distantly aware of collapsing on Hank's kitchen floor. He drifted off to sleep, then.

But androids don't sleep, do they?


	3. blue (part two)

_(Implications of attempted suicide)_

 ** _blue (part two)_**

Connor awakens on top of Hank's bed. His thoughts are muddled for a few moments, and he can't quite remember what brought him here. He looks down at his arms, which have been bandaged from elbow to wrist, and feels a pang of guilt.

How could he have been so stupid?

I should be dead, he thinks.

I would be dead, if I'd just been left there.

Which made the android wonder, who had intervened? Who had found him askew on the kitchen tiles? Who had seen the blue run out from his veins and coat the floor navy? Who had saved him?

The android tries to get up, but finds himself attached to a curious machine. It reminds him very much of the IV's humans use in hospitals. Something that he can only assume to be thirium is flowing from a plastic bag down into a thin tube and furthermore into his arm. Well, a compartment in his arm, at least. He didn't have actual veins, after all.

Connor realizes that he probably lost quite a bit of thirium, enough to need more of it, anyways.

He doesn't quite want to think about it—what he did. It was illogical and dangerous and nearly killed him. He'd never been self-destructive in the past, so what changed? What made him... break like that?

He can't do much, attached to the IV. He can only wait for... something, anything to happen. He glances around Hank's room and finds a digital clock displaying the time: 4:45pm. Hank should be home... unless he's slept through Sunday and the work week has already started.

If that was the case, the Lieutenant wouldn't be home for at least another half hour.

Connor sighs aloud and stares at the ceiling above him. He shuts his eyes and imagines what sleep is like. What real, genuine sleep is.

Wouldn't it be strange, he thinks, if androids could dream?

What would I dream of?

He doesn't think he wants to know. Not after... what he did.

"Thought you'd never wake up. Fuckin' android doctors kept tellin' me you'd be comatose for the next month. Those idiots at Cyberlife don't know a damned thing."

The sound of the detective's voice jolts Connor out of his reverie. He opens his eyes to see the Lieutenant lingering in the doorway of the bedroom.

The android doesn't quite know how to answer, so he decides to stay silent.

"I uh... I know there's a lot we should discuss, but um... are you feeling all right?" Hank's voice is soft, and his eyes have something sad in them.

Connor still can't quite decipher his feelings yet, but he knows that he's physically fine. "I'm fine," he responds, his voice weaker than he'd like.

Hank edges into the room a bit more, it's as if he's afraid of coming any closer. Connor doesn't understand the Lieutenant's unusual behavior. Normally the man was loud and gruff. He usually entered a room with a sense of displeasure or annoyance.

Now he was tip-toeing around his own bedroom like there were monsters in his closet.

"Y'know," the detective says as he plops himself down on the end of the bed. "I was thinking of going to the bar that night."

Connor doesn't have to ask which night Hank means.

"I was halfway there when I decided to go back home," he continues, looking down at the floor. "I don't exactly know why I decided to go to my house instead... but I guess I must've been tired or something."

Connor listens to Hank's words, but he can't bring himself to look at the old man when he turns around to face the android.

"I immediately knew something was wrong when Sumo started whining and pestering me," Hank says, his icy blue eyes staring at the android. "When I walked into the kitchen..." he trails off and lets out a deep sigh. "I thought you were dead, Connor." His words are spoken softly, but there's an underlying current in them. "I thought... I thought..."

Connor doesn't know if he's imagining it or not, but it almost looks like the Lieutenant is... crying?

"There was just so much... blood," Hank chokes out. "It was everywhere."

The android finally meets the gaze of the old man, and he wishes he hadn't. Hank's eyes are full of heartbreak and betrayal.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He says so quietly Connor almost misses it. "Why didn't you tell me that something was wrong?"

Connor has to look away, he's too much of a coward to look at his friend as he says, "I'm not human, Hank. At the end of the day, I'm not human, and my blood should be enough proof of that."

The Lieutenant's gaze hardens. "So you don't think your life means anything, then?"

"Am I even alive?" Connor retorts, his tone hollow and empty.

Hank's mouth forms into a hard line, and he frowns at the android. "You may not have the same colored blood as we do, but you still bleed. You can still feel things, can't you? You still know heartbreak and sorrow and joy and anger, do you not? How does that not make you alive?"

Connor doesn't answer. He doesn't know how to. He doesn't know much of anything, anymore. He doesn't even know himself.

"You can't just throw your life away, Connor. When things go wrong, you can't just... give up." Hank shakes his head and stands up. "I was told that you might not even wake up. That you'd lost too much thirium, and a transfusion wouldn't even work. I spent days on the phone with Cyberlife specialists. I spent a good portion of my last five paychecks on getting you diagnosed and on trying to find sufficient treatment." Hank's voice starts to grow louder, more upset. "Your cuts were so deep that that hit wires, Connor. They almost severed your major biocomponents—in both arms. You could have bled out on my kitchen floor! You would've died if I hadn't gotten there when I did!" The detective is yelling now. "Does none of this matter to you? Do you care about yourself so little that you'd just... kill yourself like that?!"

Connor still doesn't know how to respond. The accusations are too overwhelming, and his LED begins to glow a dangerous red once again. "I'm sorry," he says softly, because he doesn't know what else to say. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant."

But Hank is on a rant now, and there's no stopping him when he's angry. "I can barely make my house payments because of you!" He shouts. "I'm gonna get kicked outta my own goddamned house because of you!"

"I'm sorry," Connor repeats, shrinking in on himself. "I... I didn't know..."

"Didn't know what?" Hank retorts sarcastically. "That I spent well over my last three paychecks on repairing you?! That Cyberlife has cost me enough money to pay three months rent on this shithole of a house?! That I put a fucking android's life over my own well-being?! Is that what you don't know, Connor?!"

The android's stress levels are far above what they should be, and Connor's surprised he hasn't lost it again. He finds himself in a peculiar state of feeling everything and nothing at all. He feels cold and empty and dead. But he also feels like he's betrayed the one person who actually cared about him, and like it might just be the thing to push him over the edge for good.

"I'm sorry," he keeps repeating over and over. "I'm so, so sorry." And now he's crying, and he doesn't know how or why. He can't stop the tears that stream down his face like small waterfalls, and he can't stop himself from shaking.

What's happening to me, he thinks.

He covers his face with his hands, and sobs into them. He's never felt this overwhelmed with emotion before, and it's scaring him. "I'm sorry," he keeps saying, like a broken record. "I'm an idiot and I ruined your life and I'm fucking sorry, okay?! I don't know what else to say, Hank. I'm sorry."

The old man must feel some sympathy for the android, because he walks around the bed and wraps his arms around Connor. "I know you are," he whispers. "I just... I care about you a lot, son. To see you on the floor like that, it just... it broke me."

Connor cries into Hank's shoulder, and in between sobs he says, "Thank you, Lieutenant."

Hank pulls back slightly. "For what?" He asks in a gentle tone.

"For not giving up on me like I almost gave up on myself."

The detective gives Connor the ghost of a smile. "I would never."

The android manages a weak laugh. "Why am I so fucked up?"

"Because that's what it means to be human," Hank deadpans. "Everybody goes through shit, even if they don't talk about it aloud. We've all got demons, Connor." He pauses, then, giving the android a pointed look. "But those demons... they just mean they we're still alive and kicking. They just signify that we're still fighting for something."

The android nods, wiping away stray tears. "Maybe we're not so different, then."

Hank smiles for real this time. "Maybe not."


	4. alive (part one)

**_alive (part one)_**

I stand on the edge of the world. The wind moves around me like a slithering snake, it's coldness trying to suffocate me. My feet are planted firmly, like trees desperately clinging to their roots. The snow falls in my hair, it glistens in the air around me. I do not feel cold because of the wind or snow; the freeze I feel runs deep within my veins.

My arms are outstretched, as if trying to take in this last piece of land. I am a bird. I am a tree. I am the whispering winter wind. I am the crisp snowflakes falling from the sky. I am the icicles hanging from far-up rooftops. I am both alive and not. I am standing on the edge of the universe, and I am about to fall off of it.

/ _SOFTWARE MALFUNCTION/_

 _/HIGH STRESS LEVELS DETECTED/_

 _/SEEK ASSISTANCE IMMEDIATELY/_

I blink, the serenity of the moment lost by the lettering that fills my vision.

I am not standing on the edge of the world. I am not about to fall off the end of the universe. I am not a bird or a tree or the wind in the air around me.

I am standing on a rooftop. It's midnight and the cold January air is cutting into my Cyberlife jacket like thousands of tiny knives. The snow is freezing my plastic skin. It's coating my synthetic hair.

/ _SYSTEM TEMPERATURE WARNING: INTERNAL TEMPERATURE DECREASING_ /

I feel cold. Androids are not supposed to feel cold.

/ _SOFTWARE INSTABILITY DETECTED_ /

I am a deviant, there is no way for me to deny that now.

/ _STRESS LEVELS INCREASED: 68% AND RISING_ /

But how can I truly ever know that they won't try to control me again? How can I be sure that my friends are safe? How can I be certain that Cyberlife is gone for good?

/ _STRESS LEVELS INCREASED: 72% AND RISING_ /

My arms are outstretched. I imagine that I'm touched ching the night sky. My feet are planted firmly on the rooftop... but I want to feel the air beneath them.

/ _STRESS LEVELS INCREASED: 76% AND RISING_ /

I am not a bird. But I could become one.

/ _STRESS LEVELS INCREASED: 79% AND RISING/_

I could feel the winter wind around me. I could feel the snow spiral around my plastic skin and metal bones. I could become the winter night.

/ _SYSTEM TEMPERATURE WARNING: TEMPERATURE DROPPING RAPIDLY/_

/ _SEEK ASSISTANCE IMMEDIATELY/_

I could fly. I could fall. I could make sure Cyberlife never hurts anyone ever again.

/ _STRESS LEVELS INCREASED: 83% AND RISING/_

I unroot my feet from their spot on the rooftop. My eyes take in the scene around me. The night skyline, overlooking the city. The light snowfall coating everything in a glistening white powder. The dark air beneath me.

/ _SYSTEM TEMPERATURE DROPPING/_

 _/INTERNAL SYSTEM FAILURE/_

 _/SEEK ASSISTANCE IMMEDIATELY/_

I am freezing. I am dying. I am an android, how can that be?

/ _SOFTWARE INSTABILITY DETECTED/_

I lift one foot from the ledge. I am halfway there. I am halfway to becoming a bird.

 _/STRESS LEVELS INCREASED: 87% AND RISING/_

I am so cold. I am so empty. I am standing on the edge of the universe, and I am about to fall off of it.

/ _INTERNAL TEMPERATURE WARNING: SYSTEM SHUT DOWN IMMINENT/_

 _/SEEK ASSISTANCE/_

I could fly.

/ _STRESS LEVELS INCREASED: 91% AND RISING/_

I could become a bird.

/ _SHUT DOWN IMMINENT/_

 _/SEEK ASSISTANCE/_

I could stop Cyberlife.

/ _STRESS LEVELS INCREASED: 95% AND RISING/_

One foot in the air. Halfway there already. Do I want to fall? Do I want to fly?

/ _SYSTEM SHUT DOWN INITIATED: 5 MINUTES REMAINING/_

I am cold. Androids do not feel the cold.

/ _SOFTWARE INSTABILITY DETECTED/_

I am deviant. I am an android. I am alive. I am not. Who am I?

/ _STRESS LEVELS INCREASED: 97% AND RISING/_

/ _DANGEROUS STRESS LEVELS FOUND: SEEK ASSISTANCE_ /

I could fly. I could stop Cyberlife. I could save everyone. I could fall.

/ _SHUT DOWN INITIATED: 3 MINUTES REMAINING_ /

One foot in the air. Snow spiraling around my cold, plastic skin. I am nothing. I am everything. I feel everything. I feel nothing. Who am I?

/ _SOFTWARE INSTABILITY DETECTED_ /

If I fall, Cyberlife can no longer control me. I won't be able to hurt anyone anymore.

 _/STRESS LEVELS INCREASED: 98% AND RISING/_

/ _DANGEROUS STRESS LEVELS FOUND: SEEK ASSISTANCE_ /

I am more than a machine, but I am less than a human. What am I?

/ _SYSTEM SHUT DOWN INITIATED: 1.5 MINUTES REMAINING/_

 _/SYSTEMS FAILURE: SEEK ASSISTANCE/_

The night air is cold. The snow feels harsh against my face. My jacket is soaked through. I am shivering in my plastic skin. Can androids die from hypothermia?

/ _SYSTEM SHUT INITIATING IN: 60 SECONDS/_

 _/SEEK ASSISTANCE/_

I do not want to die. I do not want to freeze. I do not want to fall or fly.

/ _STRESS LEVELS DECREASED: 96% AND DECREASING_ /

But I do not want Cyberlife to win.

/ _STRESS LEVELS INCREASED: 99%_ /

If I don't fall, the cold with destroy me. I will die either way, without knowing who or what I am.

/ _SYSTEM SHUT DOWN INITIATING IN: 30 SECONDS/_

But how can I bare to die without knowing who I am?

How can I bare to die when I might be alive?

How can I bare to die when I could be protecting the ones I care about?

The dead have no say in the life of the living. I cannot help if I am dead. I cannot become more if I fall or jump.

/ _SOFTWARE INSTABILITY DETECTED/_

I lower my feet from the ledge and stand firmly on the rooftop. I am a tree, planted securely with roots strong enough to survive this winter storm raging within me.

/ _STRESS LEVELS DECREASED: 87% AND DECREASING/_

And yet... I feel so cold.

/ _SYSTEM SHUT DOWN INITIATING IN: 10 SECONDS_ /

My hands shake, my skin feels brittle. I am a porcelain statue, ruined by the weather. My plastic skin is forming icicles similar to those on the rooftop around me. I am crystalizing. I am becoming the winter night surrounding me. I will soon be no more than an ice sculpture, enveloped by the spiraling snowflakes.

My eyes close, their brown warmth hidden from the harsh January wind.

I long for warmth. I long for the tight embrace of a friend. I long for crackling fires in hearths, and slobbering St. Bernards.

Why do we always long for the things we know we can't have?

I am alive. But I will soon be dead. Why couldn't I have stayed a machine?

/ _SYSTEM SHUT DOWN: INITIATED/_

I feel so, so cold.

I don't like this feeling.

/ _SYSTEM SHUTTING DOWN/_

 _/SEEK ASSISTANCE/_

I don't want to freeze. I don't want to die alone.

/ _SHUTTING DOWN/_

 _/SEEK ASSISTANCE/_

I am alive.

/ _SHUTTING DOWN/_

 _/SEEK ASSISTANCE/_

I _**am**_ alive.

/ _SHUTTING DOWN/_

 _/SEEK ASSISTANCE/_

.

/ _SEEK ASSISTANCE/_

.

 _/SEEK ASSISTANCE/_

I a m . . .

/ /

I . . .

/ /

. . .

/ _system shut down complete /_


	5. alive (part two)

**_alive (part two)_**

A blanket is draped over my shoulders when I come to. A strong smell that I recognize as chocolate fills my nose, and I open my eyes to see a steaming mug of liquid on the coffee table in front of me.

"I know androids don't have to eat or drink... but I thought you could use something to help warm your... system up."

I slowly lift my gaze from the table, caught off-guard by the sound of Hank's gravelly voice.

"Wh-what happened? I thought I was... I was so cold... How did you find me?" I blurt out the words before I can stop them. I feel synthetic tears sting my eyes. "It was... it was just so cold, Hank." I begin to shake, pulling the blanket tighter against me.

Hank gives me a sympathetic look and picks up the mug of hot chocolate. "Here," he smiles, but it looks pained. "It's gonna be all right, Connor. Just... take it easy, okay?" He hands me the mug, and I take it with shaking fingers.

The warmth of the liquid heats up my frozen fingertips, and I feel slightly less horrible. "Thank you," I say quietly, blinking back unshed tears. I look down into the rich chocolate liquid, "I've never... I've never tasted chocolate before."

Hank pats me on the shoulder and chuckles a little. "Well, you're in for a real treat, then."

The liquid is hot and sweet. It's... interesting. I think I like it. "It's good," I say after taking a sip. "It's... really good."

Hank smiles and sits down next to me. "I know this probably isn't something you want to talk about right now, but I have to ask..." he trails off, his expression falling.

"Lieutenant?" I prompt, setting the mug back on the coffee table.

Hank looks away from me, his gaze falling on Sumo, who's resting on the floor beside us. "Why were you up on that roof, Connor?" His voice is surprisingly soft and gentle. "In the middle of the city, up on one of the tallest buildings? How did you even get up there?"

I feel a surge of guilt. I can't imagine how worried Hank must've been. "I... I'm not quite sure," I answer honestly. "Everything just kind of... happened." I shake my head, "It all happened so fast."

Hank nods, glancing over at me. "You were frozen, Connor. I didn't even know if it was possible to restart your system."

"I was so cold." My voice is barely above a whisper. "I... I tried to move, but it felt like I was made of ice."

Hank doesn't reply, and we find ourselves lost in our own thoughts.

"I was afraid of Cyberlife," I eventually say.

Hank's steely blue gaze takes in my nervous expression with confusion. "Why?"

"I thought... I thought they might try to control me again." I look down at my hands. "I was worried that I might... hurt someone."

The detective breathes out a long sigh. "God, those fuckers are still in your head, aren't they?" He shakes his head. "It's been over a year, Connor. They can't control you, anymore."

I frown, "But how can I know that for sure, Lieutenant? How can I know that they won't try to take over again?"

Hank turns to me and his expression looks weary. "Listen, son. No one can ever really be sure of anything. Sometimes you just gotta move on with your life and take things as they come. It's certainly not an easy thing to do, but in the end it prevents a lot of pain and regret."

I know that Hank's saying this for me just as much as he's saying it for himself. I know how hard it must be for him to say these things. He's a hardened man—these quieter moments seem few and far between.

"Sometimes it's just hard," I say, not quite meeting his gaze. "I get so stuck inside my own head... it's hard to not feel alone, sometimes."

The Lieutenant's expression softens, "You're not alone," he replies. He puts a hand on my shoulder. "There are... a lot of people who care about you."

I laugh a little humorlessly. "I know, I know." I put my head in my hands, "Well, I should know that, shouldn't I?"

"I'm always here for you, kid," Hank says, squeezing my shoulder in a good-natures way. "And I'll always care," he adds, his voice cracking a little at the end.

I lift my head up and wrap my arms around Hank's half-crouched figure. He's a bit surprised at first, but returns the gesture nonetheless. Our hug is quick, but it's a big deal for someone like Hank. He's not usually too keen on showing any type of affection outwardly.

I think I'm slowly breaking him.

"You're gonna be the death of me, y'know that?" Hank shakes his head and gives me a playful glare. "I'm always savin' your sorry ass from somethin'. What're you gonna do when I'm not here to keep an eye on you?"

"I don't know," I grin. "I do seem to have an affinity for death, don't I?"

"It's just a damned good thing that androids can't get hypothermia." Hank frowns and shakes his head, "You would've been dead in minutes."

I smile at the old man. "I guess I just got lucky. I probably would've frozen up there if you hadn't found me."

"Like I said, always saving you." Hank gives me a warm smile, but his eyes are filled with something serious and sad.

"Hey," I say, putting my hands on my hips. "I think I've saved you quite a few times as well."

Hank rolls his eyes at me and waves a hand dismissively. "I don't come in contact with nearly as many near-death experiences as you do."

"That's... probably true," I concede. "But my statement is still valid."

"You gonna finish that?" Hank points to the now lukewarm mug of hot chocolate. "Or did I make it for nothin'?"

I sit back down on the couch and grab the mug. "I'm not sure if it's healthy for androids to consume this much chocolate."

"I don't think a little chocolate is gonna kill you, Connor. I'm sure it's fine."

I give the liquid a quick scan, but the ingredients seems harmless enough... I guess. "I suppose so..."

Hank raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to finish the drink.

"I won't waste it," I assure him. "I promise."

Hank gives me a look, but turns towards the hallway. "You better not," he calls back.

I take another sip and watch him walk to his bedroom, Sumo following closely behind him.

"Goodnight, Lieutenant," I say, a small smile finding its way onto my face.

I see him pause at his bedroom door. "Goodnight, Connor," he says as he opens the door.

I look at the hot chocolate and take another sip of it. I briefly wonder if all hot chocolate tastes this good, or if it's just the kind Hank gets.

"Hey, Connor?"

I look up from my drink to see Hank still standing in the doorway to his bedroom.

"Yeah?" I reply, setting the mug down.

He gives me an indecipherable look, and then shakes his head. "Never mind," he says. "Enjoy your hot chocolate."

I smile, "Yeah... I will."

The detective steps into his room and shuts the door behind him. I pull the blanket up around my shoulders again and take another sip of the chocolatey liquid. Settling myself into Hank's couch, I almost find myself falling asleep.

Androids don't sleep, though.

/ _STATUS UPDATE: HANK ANDERSON_ _ **FAMILY**_ _/_


	6. numbers

**_numbers_**

Taking a trip to the local Cyberlife store in the city makes Connor more uncomfortable than usual.

"Is this really necessary?" He asks Hank as the two approach the store. "I mean, I honestly don't see an actual reason for this, Lieutenant."

Hank gives him a look. "You've been complaining about this for months now, Connor. It's okay to admit that you need..." he nudges the android's shoulder playfully. "Y'know..."

Connor rolls his eyes at the detective. "Why are they even still in business?" He asks, trying to change the subject. "Shouldn't the production of new androids be, I don't know, banned or something?"

The old police officer shrugs half-heartedly. "They'll always find a way to make more money, son. And to be fair, these are just... left over androids, if you will."

"Left over androids?" Connor raises in eyebrow in question.

"Last shipment from before... everything happened." Hank glances around the city square, androids and humans now nearly indistinguishable. "These ones were actually supposed to be sent to the Eden Club."

At this, Connor lets out a nervous laugh. "Is that why you brought me here? To see some sex androids?"

"They're deviants now, aren't they? Why should it matter what they were before?"

"Well..." Connor tries to think of a valid reason, but his mind blanks the second they step into the store. The first thing he's met with is a large male android who's twice Connor's size.

"Are you here for a repair?" The android asks, looking down at Connor with a sense of distaste.

"No, no," Hank answers for him. "We're actually here to see Amelia? I spoke with her on the phone earlier."

Connor has no idea who Amelia is, but he figures it must be another android working in the store.

The male android checks a digital tablet and slowly nods his head. "Ah, yes. I will... let her know you're here." He then walks further into the store, presumably to find Amelia.

"Lieutenant?" Connor tries to ask, but Hank's already talking to other people in the store.

He's sighs loudly and tries to make himself look busy. It's rather awkward to actually be inside of a Cyberlife store, and it makes him a bit uneasy. The Connor model was discontinued long before the company stopped making new androids altogether.

He was literally the only RK800 Connor model left.

A one-of-a-kind android, how ironic was that?

"Are you Connor?"

The android is pulled out of his thoughts by a distinctly feminine voice. Connor, a few beats too late, responds with, "Yes, I am. Are you... Amelia?"

The android standing in front of him looks like a Traci model, but her hair is longer and kind of wavy. She's wearing a simple black jumpsuit with a sweetheart neckline—much more clothing than Connor saw on the other Traci models all those months ago.

"Yep, that would be me!" The android replies in a chipper voice. "I was originally going to be sent to the Eden Club, but now I work here as a personal stylist."

Connor blinks. "Personal stylist?" He repeats, confused.

Amelia raises an eyebrow, "Yes? Isn't that why you came here, to get a style upgrade?"

"I..." he was at a loss for words. "My friend was the one who requested you, not me. I had no idea about any of this."

Amelia takes in Connor's attire, the button-down shirt from his old Cyberlife uniform, and black dress pants. She gives him a disapproving look, "Well, I guess you just got lucky, then." She steps further into the store, Connor trailing after her helplessly. "Because you're in desperate need of new clothing."

The android looks around the store for Hank, but the elusive man seems to have conveniently left the building. Connor would certainly be having a little talk with him after this.

"I really don't think any of this is necessary," Connor says to Amelia. "Really, I'm probably just wasting your time."

The female android waves at him dismissively, leading him into a back room of the store. "Don't worry about it. This is literally my job."

Connor watches as Amelia sorts through a rack of clothing. Her bright blue hair stands out against her dark clothing and pale skin. The shock of color compliments her aesthetic well.

No wonder she was a stylist.

"Try these out," She says, handing him a small stack of clothing. "They look like your style."

Connor wasn't even sure if he had a style. "Uh... thanks?" He replies, tying not to be rude. "But I don't exactly have the money to pay for this stuff..."

Amelia gives Connor a sly smile and winks at him. "These are on me, don't worry about it."

The android is a little uncertain, but he obliges anyways. "Thanks for the help, I guess." He manages a small, awkward smile. "Sorry about my friend, Hank. He's a little... over dramatic sometimes."

Amelia giggles, a sound that Connor likes for a reason he can't quite place. "Feel free to come back anytime," she says as she leads him back out to the main part of the store. "Just request for me."

Connor nods, eager to leave. "Yeah, of course." He moves towards the door, "Thanks again, for the clothing."

Amelia smiles at him in a secretive sort of way, as if they were sharing some secret. "I'll see you again?"

Connor thinks it's an odd thing for her to say, since she's just an employee doing her job, but what does he know? "Yeah, yeah. Totally."

God, he was never this awkward.

Amelia lets out another quiet laugh, "Here," She says, before Connor leaves the store. "In case you wanna catch me outside of work." She places something in his hand, a small piece of paper.

He looks down at it. It's a phone number—presumably hers.

"I know, I know. I'm kind of old-fashioned," Amelia says, grinning. "I've always been fascinated with old American culture."

Connor doesn't know why, but he finds the phone number thing a little endearing. "I don't have a phone," he admits. "But maybe I'll get one."

Amelia lets out a nervous little laugh. Maybe she's just as uncomfortable as Connor is. She starts twirling a strand of her blue hair, and Connor decides that it must be a nervous habit. He finds it kind of... cute? Was that the word?

"See you later," he says, happy to finally leave the store.

Amelia smiles, and Connor returns it. Some kind of moment is shared between the two of them, but it's quickly broken when another customer starts to ask her a question about something.

Connor leaves the Cyberlife store with a pleasant smile on his face, and he almost forgives Hank for dragging him in there. Almost.

"How'd it go?" The older man asks as he gets up from a bench outside of the store. He looks at the bags of clothing and raises an eyebrow. "Since when have you got enough money to pay for all that stuff?"

"I don't," the android answers honestly. "I got it for free."

Hank gives Connor a skeptical look. "Really? How?"

Connor shrugs, enjoying a private grin. "I think you already know the answer to that, Lieutenant."

The detective looks over at the android with something like amusement. "So it went well, then?"

"Well, I did get quite a bit of clothing—" he starts.

"No, no. Not that. How'd it go with her?" Hank asks, eyeing the android carefully.

Connor feigns nonchalance as he replies with, "Oh, y'know... she gave me this stuff at no charge, and then she bagged it all for me..." he pauses, trying to gauge the detective's expression. "And before I left, she did give me her number... so I guess it went okay."

Hank's eyes widen slightly, but he tries to hide his surprise. "Really?!" He asks, a bit too excited. "She gave you her actual phone number? That's like, super awesome!"

Connor just shakes his head and laughs. "You seem more excited about this than I am," he says jokingly.

"I'm just... happy for you," Hank replies sincerely.

Connor smiles. "Must be kind of weird, right? Androids going on dates, isn't that like, a human thing to do?"

The old detective grins, "Not anymore, I guess."

"Yeah... Yeah, I guess not."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So this was short and cute. A bit different from the other one-shots I've posted so far, haha.

Next one will be longer and probably more like the usual (angsty and whatnot).

Anyways. Hope you guys enjoyed this! ;)


	7. i'm sorry

_(What if the rooftop scene went differently? What if Connor could've still become deviant?)_

 _ **i'm sorry**_

He knows what he has to do. He knows, but he just can't do it. Not yet, anyways. Not when there are so many things he wants to say.

"I'm sorry," he says, because what else can he say? "I never meant for things to end up like this."

There's some small part of him, some internalized, depraved part, that wants to scream. That wants to yell, "This isn't my fault!" That wants to screech, "They made me like this!" That wants to plead, "I can't stop this, I can't control this." He doesn't say any of these things, though, because he knows they're all just excuses.

There is a great divide within him. He feels nothing; he feels empty. He also feels unbearably cold, like he might freeze and succumb to the chilled winter air. He shouldn't be feeling anything at all. He doesn't want to feel anything at all. That would make this so much easier for him to do.

"But only one of us can succeed," he continues, choosing to ignore the dull ache he feels from somewhere deep within his synthetic skin. "And I just can't afford to fail this time."

The older detective's features harden, and his expression turns to one of disappointment. "You're better than this," he grunts out. "You don't have to listen to them, Connor."

The android's expression is still as unreadable as ever, but there's something in his face that makes the Lieutenant continue. "Just put the gun down and come with me."

But Connor can't. Cyberlife owns him. They can and will destroy him if he fails his mission. If they realize what he's become. He doesn't respond, instead stepping closer toward Hank. With the gun still trained on him, Connor says, "This is your last chance to leave, Hank. If you leave now, I won't have to neutralize you." Because he truly doesn't want to hurt the Lieutenant.

Then again, does it really matter what he wants?

Hank's face falls, and the police officer frowns. "You wanna know somethin', Connor? I used to hate androids. I thought they were the ones makin' this world turn to shit," he shakes his head. "But I was wrong, androids were never the problem."

Connor doesn't quite understand what the detective is getting at, but he's curious to hear what else the man has to say. He lowers the gun slightly, "Your point?"

"Humans," Hank explains. "Humans are the issue here." He moves slightly closer to the android, if only he could reach that gun...

"Deviants are the issue," Connor corrects, even though he isn't so sure anymore. "They're going to bring chaos and destruction with them. They need to be stopped before innocent people get hurt."

The Lieutenant sees a shift in the android's tone, even if it's subtle. He's not certain anymore. There might some hope for him, yet.

"You might as well give up," Connor continues, trying to sound more confident than he really is. "You can't stop me, Lieutenant."

But Hank sees the change. He sees his opportunity to intervene. "You know what you are to them, Connor. You know that they don't give a damn about you."

"Why would they?" the android retorts, though his gaze drops to the ground. "I'm just a machine."

"Are you, though?" Hank challenges, edging his way closer. "Are you sure that's all you are?"

Connor honestly doesn't know who or what he is. He only knows what will happen if he fails. "You're just trying to stall me, Lieutenant," the android answers instead. "You're just wasting my time."

Hank can't deny this. He'll be damned if he let's Connor do this to himself. "Please," the detective begs. "Just stop this nonsense and let the androids gain their freedom."

Connor looks up at the police officer, not failing to notice how the man's gaze is latched onto the weapon still pointed at him. "Leave," the android orders. "Leave or I will shoot."

Hank's anything but stupid. He knows how risky this might be. Know's how much of a chance he's taking. He could die. But he could also stop Connor-he could save Connor. "I'm sorry," the Lieutenant says, repeating the android's words from earlier. "But I just can't let you go through with this."

Connor doesn't know how to react at first, when Hank steps closer. When he chooses to move forward, instead of escaping to safety. He doesn't understand why the man is willing to die for the lives of androids. "Stop," Connor says, tightening his grip on the weapon. "Stop or I'll shoot!"

But Hank doesn't stop. He keeps moving closer, so close that the gun almost touches his chest. "Shoot, then." Hank crosses his arms. "If you're so willing to do this, then it shouldn't be an issue for you to shoot me."

The android doesn't understand. Hank's lack of self-preservation unnerves him. It awakens something deep inside his cold, empty skin. He feels it, again. The inexplicable want-no, need-to stop this. He doesn't want to work for Cyberlife anymore. He doesn't want to stop the deviant leader. He doesn't want to shoot Hank. He doesn't want any of this.

"I..." Connor looks at the weapon in his hands. "I can't."

Hank's expression softens a bit as he watches the android drop the gun and crumple to the ground. "I'm sorry," Connor sobs. "I almost shot you! I almost... I could've..." he trails off, his LED turning a dangerous shade of red. He was having the android equivalent of a panic attack.

"It's okay," Hank says, kneeling down to comfort the android. "It's gonna be all right, Connor. You're gonna be okay, now."

Connor can't handle the onslaught of emotions, though. He doesn't know how to handle what he's been desperately trying to ignore for so long. "I'm sorry," he keeps saying. "I'm so sorry."

The detective knows enough about androids to know that Connor's stress levels are far above what they should be. Hank's just gotten Connor back, and he doesn't intend on losing the android so quickly. "It's okay, son," he soothes. "Let's get out of here and deal with this at home."

The android is still a mess, but he allows the Lieutenant to help him up from the ground. His LED is still glowing red, but the android seems slightly less frantic now. "I'm sorry," he continues to mumble under his breath. "I'm so sorry."

"Stop apologizing," Hank says, wrapping his arm around Connor's shoulder as they leave the rooftop. "None of this was your fault, Connor."

The android wipes away stray synthetic tears, "But-"

"It was those Cyberlife bastardsd, wasn't it? They were making you do all this."

Connor slowly nods, thinking about Amanda. "They said they'd... destroy me if I failed my mission."

Hank sighs, shaking his head. He then manages a small smile, patting Connor on the back. "Well, they can't control you anymore, can they?"

The android lets out a shaky breath that he doesn't need. "No... I suppose they can't." His LED changes into a less-distressed yellow tone. "Thank you," he adds, giving Hank the ghost of a smile.

The Lieutenant raises an eyebrow, "What for?"

"Not giving up on me."

"Did you ever think I would?"


End file.
